Some Sort of Closure
by nevthebunny
Summary: After the war, Gale Hawthorne works in District Two. He supposes he always expected to see her again. Perhaps this meeting will give him some sort of closure. Two shot.
1. Gale

**A/N So I realised I've written a Peeta/Katniss and nothing about Gale. This fic was the result. My one-shots seem to be getting shorter and shorter. Hmm. Anyway this did not turn out as I intended it but enjoy! And review!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it. Still having to do exams. **

He supposes he was expecting her. He couldn't say what drew him to the spot, what prompted him to one day pull a sickie (something he would never have dared back in Twelve, not least because he couldn't afford to lose that job) and duck under Two's dilapidated fence to slip out towards the rocky surface of the mountain. It was so different from the sheltered expanse he was used to back home; it felt too open but nonetheless it didn't shock him to find her there.

She was always on the other side of the fence in his nightmares, only that fence wasn't quite as accessible as the physical one. It was the boundary to the past. Only innocent Gale could cross that fence; there was no access for the man that killed her sister. Yet as soon as he reached the cave he felt her presence.

He supposes he had always expected to see her again. This was the point in all the ancient 'American' movies where he found closure and perhaps she forgave him but this was not America, where he gathered everything had been sweet and perfect. This was Panem with all its rough edges and battle scars.

When she saw him there was no running into his arms or confessions of love on her part, nor begging for forgiveness on his. They merely stood and stared. She was so familiar but the Capitol had somehow smoothed out her old flaws and insecurities that Gale knew so well and replaced them with new ones at the same time they perfected her skin.

She pursed her lips. "Gale," she said.

"Katniss," he replied.

There was no shouting or sobbing or firm words spoken between them. It was so surreal that Gale would later doubt whether it was just another nightmare for, though he could finally reach her physically, he was never going to get back into her head. When she looked at him, she gave him the look she reserved for the lowest of the low. The despicable, the unlikeable and the Capitol scum.

In that instant he knew that his Katniss had died in the war not long after he had.

"How are you?" She broke the silence.

"Coping," he admitted truthfully.

"You're well."

It was the simplicity of the statement, the way she still knew him inside out that made him realise how much he no longer understood her. And he never would again.

"Catnip…" he said pleadingly.

She shook her head. "I had to see you. One last time. Just to check."

One _last_ time.

"You can't forgive me," he whispered. The statement made him wonder if perhaps he did know her still but her reply squashes that notion.

"Never. Goodbye Gale."

He supposes he should find some sort of closure, like in those movies, but he doesn't. In fact, the nightmares only get worse.


	2. Katniss

**A/N So thank you very much to Howlynn for reviewing this fic. It was going to be a oneshot but her review made me think about Katniss' point of view which inspired this chapter. Read and review :) Enjoy. **

It is Peeta who finally persuades me in the end. He knows, has always known, that Gale is a big part of who I am. He says he won't be jealous. He says it will be good for me.

I can forgive Gale, I decide on the train. It wasn't his fault, I tell myself. Honestly, I miss him. I miss our old easy friendship and our camaraderie and our mutual understanding. I feel safe in Peeta's arms but I would feel even safer knowing Gale still watched my back.

I creep into a mountainside cave, unnoticed. I don't want to knock on his door. It would be too strange, too impersonal. He will know I'm here, I'm sure. We always had this ability to sense each other's presence.

And sure enough he arrives. We look into each other's eyes for an instant that stretches out before us. In appearance, he is very similar to the boy I always knew, though better fed and older-looking.

I don't know how to feel about this man stood in front of me. I suddenly feel stupid for travelling all this way. I had to see him again, though, because I thought I could forgive him. I _can_ forgive him, I tell myself.

"Gale," I say impassively.

He looks at me, knowing I don't want a fight. "Katniss," he replies, equally aloof.

He works for the Capitol now, in some capacity, and I can't help hating that, despite Paylor's presidency and the reformed government. When I look at him I can just see the excesses of the Capitol and the tragedies of war meshed together and written all over his face. He reminds me of a time I'd rather forget.

To break the icy, unwelcome silence I ask, "How are you?"

Somehow his reply rubs me up the wrong way. "Coping," he claims. Gale is not coping. He is well fed. He has plenty of money. From what I have heard, he has a somewhat adoring fanbase. His family are all well and accounted for. And he is alive, unlike my sister.

"You're well," I note, trying to maintain my uncaring tone.

He must notice a change in my demeanour for suddenly he begins to plead. "Catnip…"

That nickname, which I used to consider sweet, now serves as a memoir to times long past. I realise that he was right; I cannot look him in the face any longer without seeing my sister's death. I cannot separate Gale from the rebels that caused it. I cannot forgive him.

But I owe him the truth. Why I am here and why this is the last time I will see him. I shake my head, willing him to stop talking.

"I had to see you. One last time. Just to check."

I don't have to explain. He knows me and he can read me like a book. It is me who doesn't understand the new Gale. This is a Gale who allows himself to be owned by rebels and Capitol alike.

"You can't forgive me," he says and in that instant he sounds so broken I almost reconsider. I just want to run to him and hug him and tell him that everything is okay but it isn't. He is round and healthy with no visible sign of any pain.

Hate surges up within me. I despise him. I don't know why. I don't know when it started. There is no way I can forgive him now.

"Never," I hear the word coming from my mouth. "Goodbye Gale."

I'm not sure I made the right choice. I'm not sure I even had a choice to make.


End file.
